


Wild

by safarikalamari



Series: fyeahspiritassassin week [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Assassination Attempt(s), Fights, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safarikalamari/pseuds/safarikalamari
Summary: What's life without a few assassination attempts?(alternatively: Baze ponders this and more in a single night)





	Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Body Swap/Role Reversal
> 
> Baze is the "spiritual one" and Chirrut is the assassin. I think I may have strayed from the original prompt. Oh well

Baze sighs when he hears a thump outside his window. He suspects it’s another assassin and he adds a groan to his various noises as he rolls out of his bed. 

For months now he’s had a price on his head for upsetting a gang with his “spiritual rhetoric”, a fun phrase coined by the group. In reality, it was a simple blessing that escalated into a big misunderstanding just because the gang couldn’t understand even the simplest of words.

Already, Baze has dealt with a few assassins but they were amateurs at best, knocked down in just a few hits. He’s a bit fed up with the lack of skill and hopes this one will be somewhat of a challenge. 

Just as he sits in his chair facing the window, the assassin lands on the sill, his face turned in Baze’s direction.

“Resting up, I see,” the assassin says, a grin on his face.

Baze thinks the hood over his head is a nice touch as well as the similar black and red scheme to his own monk robes. The assassin’s eyes are crystal blue and Baze notes the way they shift, their focus straying from his face. He’s seen this from peddlers on the street and Baze figures he might as well ask before scaring this one away too.

“Blind?”

“Observant!” the assassin seems pleased and leaps off the sill to stand in front of Baze. “So are we fighting to the death or just until you give up?”

Baze lets out a cynical laugh, crossing his arms. “Which is worth more, dead or alive?”

“It’s the same either way, but I wouldn’t mind the challenge of bringing you back alive,” the assassin nods a little too eagerly.

Baze thinks if he had met this man on the streets, he’d offer to buy him food and drink. It’s not often that he meets someone with just as quick of wit as himself and he smiles through the twinge of disappointment that sits in his stomach.

“Shame we have to fight. I think we’d make good friends,” Baze stands up into his sparring position. He’s not sure why he had to admit such a thing, but what’s done is done and Baze accepts the consequences.

“Maybe even better lovers,” the assassin teases, readying his stance as well.

Baze laughs as his mind buzzes away at such a prospect and his fists fall just for a moment as the assassin shuffles closer.

He blocks the first punch to his face with ease, then sweeping around the assassin as he makes his way over to his staff. The assassin is faster, interrupting Baze’s path and Baze throws a few kicks, dodging the ones the assassin gives in return.

“Not bad, Baze Malbus,” the assassin nods. “I appreciate your effort.”

“As I do yours,” Baze grins, tumbling over to another staff on the other side of the room. “What’s your name?”

“Hm, I suppose I can give you my first,” the assassin grabs onto Baze’s incoming staff. “Chirrut.”

“Lovely,” Baze grunts, using his feet to knock Chirrut onto his back. 

Chirrut wheezes through his laughter before getting back onto his feet and the fight begins again. “You’re sweet.”

Baze has been called many things, but he thinks “sweet” is not one of them and supposes he can accept such a compliment this once. 

A few kicks, punches, and blocks makes Baze wonder if he might actually lose this time, the fatigue hitting his body faster than usual. Chirrut’s blindness doesn’t seem to slow him, but Baze takes advantage of the sounds his own body makes once cornered. Baze evens out his breathing with meditation techniques, his body stilling while his eyes gauge Chirrut’s expressions.

“Smart too,” Chirrut’s eyes dart a little. “I suppose my sense of smell has always been better.” 

Baze wants to grin, but he’s not so easily coerced by Chirrut’s quips this time. Once his pulse has slowed, Baze darts past Chirrut, pulling down a nearby curtain to throw onto him. 

Chirrut flails only a little in the fabric before he’s free, but it’s enough time for Baze to get more space. He expects a flying kick, but instead, Chirrut pauses with a hum, his finger tapping on his chin. 

It’s only now that Baze has noticed other temple rooms lighting up and the sounds of his friends coming to his aid. Not that he needs it, but his fights have never lasted this long before.

“I can’t take on more than five men,” Chirrut shrugs and Baze knows it’s a lie. “Guess I have to go.”

“What makes you think I’ll let you leave?” Baze shoots forward, grabbing Chirrut by the collar. 

Chirrut grins, shifting even closer. “I’m the only assassin after you now. I’ve taken care of the rest. Don’t you want to see which of us will come out on top?”

Baze rolls his eyes at this, shoving Chirrut back. He hates the temptation, to see who’s the stronger. Chirrut’s been quite the challenge after all and Baze thinks this is a good excuse to train more.

“Fine. I was just going easy on you anyways.”

“Ah, look how alike we are. A fine husband you’d be. If you’ll have me,” Chirrut winks and Baze doesn’t turn away when Chirrut chews on his lower lip.

“Is that a proposal?” Baze throws back, watching as Chirrut makes his way over to the window. 

“Perhaps,” Chirrut thinks on it, perched on the ledge. “Let’s see if you can tame this wild heart.”

Baze shakes his head at the absurdity of Chirrut, not to mention his own actions, and puts his head in his hand. “I accept then, my assassin.” 

With a wide smile and salute, Chirrut falls out the window and Baze can only laugh as his bedroom door bursts open, his friends at the ready. 

“Where is he?” one demands, running over to the window.

Baze only waves to the confusion of his friends and sets his staff next to the bed. “I think we will not need to worry about assassins anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> This could have a possible continuation. We'll see
> 
> [Tumblr Wumblr](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)


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